


Killers for Life

by MildlyInsane



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Serial Killers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-27
Updated: 2014-05-27
Packaged: 2018-01-26 19:09:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1699370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MildlyInsane/pseuds/MildlyInsane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>That familiar face was burned into Micheal's mind, the stupid grin and big nose that he always communicated with through security camera footage and grins on the 'Most Wanted' list. The face he knew he had to kill and was excited to do so despite the fact that he only killed because he felt like, if he were stop, he would wake up the next morning with a bullet hole through his head. The face that, as soon as he first saw it, he knew would fuck with his life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Killers for Life

**Author's Note:**

> Ay! I literally started this fic in November of last year and then decided the other day, 'Well, I can't think of anything else to write, might as well finish this thing I abandoned 6 months ago.' Surprisingly, when I read over what I had already written, I was pleasantly surprised. Not sure how I feel about the entire thing now, but, eh, I think it turned out pretty okay.
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

Michael can’t help but feel the edge of his mouth curl upwards as the news flickers on the old television tucked in the corner of the abandoned building where he is staying for the night. He leans forward, studying the familiar face of the man he has been, for lack of better words, communicating with.

He says this loosely, since they have just been talking through various security tapes of each other on the news, and it’s always good to see his smile on the “Most Wanted” list right next to his. He smiles slightly, pushing himself forward on the torn bed, clicking the buttons he assumes are for volume.

“-The young serial killer, Gavin Free, is suspected of countless kills, for reasons unknown at this time. The once innocent British man adds yet another murder to his list, this time in a small business center near Austin, Texas. The company has found and released video footage of the killer, as seen here.” The newscaster reads, before the screen changes from her face to the footage.

Michael tilts his head slightly, watching as the man walks across the floor, a gun swinging haphazardly in his hand. Michael’s face twists in annoyance as he looks at how he holds it, wanting more than anything for him to accidentally shoot himself, as he could easily do. But, much to his annoyance, he doesn’t. Apparently his luck is stupidly good, as the man strolls into the abandoned business building with only one or two people milling about.

He watches as the man he supposes he should call Gavin notices the camera, sighing heavily as the man blinks in complete surprise, his eyes widening and lingering on the camera. He shakes his head to wake himself out of his confusion, before wandering over to the wall with the camera. Michael rubs his head as he tries to swat for it, jumping high into the air and flopping his hands around to try and grab hold of it, before realizing that that won’t actually work.

Michael watches as Gavin looks down at the gun in his hand, remembering that he had it. “Jesus Christ.” Michael mutters to himself as Gavin chuckles.

He pulls his gun up, steadying it in his hands as he points it at the camera. He pauses for a moment, before smiling. “Hello, Michael. See you soon.”

Michael doesn’t actually hear these words come from his mouth, but his lips move along with the man’s as he mouths them, before the gun begins to recoil in his hands and the video goes black.

He pauses, his fingers rolling across the controls on the television to stop the newscaster’s voice. He doesn’t care about her, just Gavin. She’s not the one he was sentenced to kill, after all.

The ringing of his phone interrupts his thoughts, and Michael quickly swipes it off of the bed, knowing exactly who it was.

“Hey, Ryan. ‘Sup?” He says, smiling slightly.

“Not much, you?” Ryan laughs at the outrageousness of the call so far. People would think that they were just regular people, and not organized killers.

“Saw, uh, Gavin on the news.” He pauses. “I don’t understand how he can be such a fucking idiot, though.”

“The way he held the goddamn gun made me want to shoot my brains out. But that’s aside the point. Did you see what he mouthed at the end? I didn’t catch it.” Michael can practically hear him cross his arms and lean against his chair, as he used to do so often before when he was with Michael. He doesn’t really see him do it as often anymore, since it’s a bit difficult to be incognito if he visits a certain place too many times, so his visits to Ryan’s are minimal.

“Yeah, it was ‘See you soon, Michael.’” He purses his lips.

“Ah.” Ryan pauses for a moment as he thinks over the words. In Michael’s opinion, he thinks too much, but he’s never steered them wrong. There’s a reason he is considered the mastermind of the duo, and it’s not because of his weird obsession with naming animals ‘Edgar’.

“So, I assume he is coming to kill you soon. Not very much surprise there, since I doubt he would be smiling at you through the footage for no reason. There’s always a reason.” He hesitates, “I know he is in Austin now, so I would look out. I do have one more person I would like you to kill before him, if possible.”

They both know that the ‘if possible’ part of his sentence is useless, since Michael doesn’t really have a choice in the matter. This is how it works: Ryan finds the people by some weird witchcraft and Michael does the actual murdering part. He doesn’t think too much of it, since, although he doesn’t enjoy it, he doesn’t completely trust Ryan. He’s fairly certain that, if he did try to stop, he might find himself dead the next day.

He’s kind of scared of Ryan, if he was completely honest. They have been friends since they were children, but he’s always been a bit weird. He was always finishing his school work early and messing with electronics and computers and managing to seem years over his age. As they grew older, Ryan tended to stay more to himself with everyone but Michael. He was always frowning, deep in thought, and Michael would find him later sketching out different crazy contraptions, some which were for doing simple things and others for killing people and things in unique ways.

He supposes he probably could have found this behavior a bit weird, but he always thought it was just because he was extremely imaginative and bored. Maybe he wanted to become an author or something.

Ryan could probably still become an author if he just wrote down their everyday experiences.

Michael remembers when he was sitting in Ryan’s living room a few months ago. He remembers watching Ryan suddenly jump up, scurry into a room to the side, and grab a large pile of papers. He had pushed a large map across the floor in excitement, pulling Michael to his knees beside him.

“So, I’ve planned out an entire murder, Michael, isn’t it cool?” Ryan had giggled, before pointing to a spot on the map. “Our neighbor stops by her mother’s house once a week after work for about an hour, then walks back to her car, which she parked a few blocks away since she needed to work on her weight.” He glanced towards the wall, “Don’t tell her I said that, even though it is completely true.

“Anyway,” Ryan traced his finger along the paper, “Her parents’ house is in the woods, so most of the walk is through a pathway in an extremely thick forest, which is helpful. For my motives, anyway, probably not for her.” He smirks slightly. “So, if we used this gun to kill her around _here_ ,” Michael flinched as Ryan tossed a pistol into his hands.

“Where did you get this?” Michael murmured, playing with the gun in his hands.

“That?” Ryan raised his eyebrow. “Dude, it’s America.” Michael shrugged, nodding his head slightly. “Anyway, if we killed her about half of the way to her car, just when it has gotten dark and she has let down her senses, we could bury the gun and hide her body in the shrubbery around _here-ish_ ,” He stabs a finger into the map.

“Of course, it’s only a first draft,” He says, leaning back and looking at it all. “Really, you should use a knife and clean it off with dirt before burying it. That way, it could be considered just a knife that was dropped by hunters long ago. Especially if you moved some dog shit over it, or something.” He paused, “Of course, we could go full out and make it seem like an animal did it. I don’t know,” He shrugged, running a hand through his hair. “I kind of want it to be apparent that a human did it, that it won’t be the last time, that it wasn’t an accident.” He hopped to his feet, grinning, “So that they know that a famous serial killer is about to be born!”

He pulled Michael up to his feet, smile wide. “I can’t wait!” He beams.

Michael paused, shaking his head slightly. “I- When did you come up with this, why, and what do you mean by _we_?”

And then he found himself standing above a dead woman, blood covering his hands as he stared down at them. He remembers just standing there for the longest time, wondering just how he was convinced to do this and why. He just knew he made a huge mistake and that it was too late to change anything.

“Michael?”

Michael blinks, shaking away the memories.

“Sorry. What were you saying?” He mutters, staring ahead as the television flickers with pictures of some new paper towel brand.

“So, I saw this dude in Walmart the other day, and he was being a dick to some kid, so I found his address. He lives alone. I’ll send you the address.” Ryan says.

“Mmkay.” He looks out the grimy window, rubbing his eyes. “God, I’m so tired.”

“You should come down to my house soon.” Ryan says lightly, smiling slightly.

“I should.” He pauses. “I’ll finish this dude and then head over to your house afterwards. I’ll do it at night, maybe 2 or 3 in the morning. I’ll probably arrive at your house around 4ish, okay?”

“Can’t wait. I’ll order pizza.” Ryan smiles. “Anyway, that’s all, Michael. Bye.”

“Okay. Bye, Ryan.” Michael listens as the phone beeps to tell him the call has ended.

He tosses the phone to the side, plopping onto the bed in disgust. It was just annoying that Ryan got to have his huge house while he had to stay in terrible motels and abandoned homes. He knew that if he stayed around Ryan’s house too much people would notice, but he always wished for his old life. All of his friends surely hate him, since it’s hard to like a murderer. Nobody really understands, nobody believes you if you say that you don’t like killing.

He tries to tell himself that it doesn’t matter, that he is fine with this being his life, but it’s always a lie. He misses just playing games with his friends, laughing and joking, nothing bad about it all. Those days are gone now, he knows, and now that he has gone on so long under Ryan’s rule he can never return home.

He feels his eyes begin to droop, his brain crying out from tired after the long day. He sighs, curling on his side, the dull drone of the news singing him to sleep.

-    ~  -

He rubs his knife on a small rag he always carries around, letting the blood soak into the fabric before he tucks it back into its sheath.

He glances around the small mobile home, his gloved hand hovering over the back window, double checking that everything is clean and clue-free. He nods to himself before pushing the grimy window open, sliding into the cool night air.

He lets out a heavy breath as he lands on the ground with a thud, quickly slipping into the shadows. He runs a hand through his hair, cursing as he remembers that it was gloved and bloody. Just another thing that would give him away if he was spotted.

He glances at the large field behind the house, trying to remember where Ryan’s house was in comparison to where he was now. He sighs, knowing that if he just ran across the lot he would find himself there in 20 or so minutes because of how close the two houses happened to be. He supposes that that could make Ryan a suspect but, honestly, he doubts he would ever get caught. Ryan has a way with words that make all lies sound true.

Deep down, he wants Ryan to get caught. Just to get that smug grin wiped off his face, he doesn’t get to live in his goddamn house and live his goddamn life with everyone still in love with him and thinking he’s completely and utterly innocent while Michael has to be out here at 3 in the goddamn morning in the freezing cold and blood in his hair and-

He takes a shuddering breath and grips his hands together, peeling the gloves off and shoving them in his pockets. He looks up, his breath puffing white clouds in front of him before he looks down and sighs. It’s 3 in the goddamn morning and he doesn’t even care anymore. He’s running across the damn thing and he’ll deal with the consequences afterwards. Worst case scenario, they manage to catch his face, which is unlikely, and call the police. Even if that happened, Ryan would still find a way to find out and get him out.

And suddenly he finds himself running.

And his mind races just as fast and he’s not even really sure what his life is anymore. He misses Jack and Lindsay and everybody else that he can’t see. He wonders what they think of him now. Ryan won’t tell him, and that’s enough for him to understand.

He doesn’t know how much time passes before he finds himself numb and standing in front of Ryan’s house. He knocks 3 times, as usual, and waits patiently for Ryan to unlock the latch and let him in. And he does just so, and ushers him in.

Ryan smiles, closing the door behind him and turning to Michael. “So, how’d it go?” He asks cheerfully.

“Good,” Michael says curtly, walking past him and grabbing a slice of pizza.

Ryan sighs and purses his lips, “When’s the last time you had a shower, you smell like shit.”

Michael glares up at him, “Thanks, dickhead. I haven’t exactly had tons of time to tend to my personal hygiene. And I certainly did not have access to a shower.” He waves his pizza in the air, “I know that might be hard for you to understand, but, believe it or not, it’s a thing.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, no need for the sass. Was just a simple question,” Ryan says, crossing his arms before sighing, “When did we get so hostile?”

“I don’t know, this sort of stuff happens when one of them has to murder people and doesn’t really have a firm grip on the rest of society,” Michael says, leaning against the counter before adding, “Also you’re a psychopath.”

Ryan pouts, “Aw, come on, I thought we were friends, Michael.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Michael huffs, waving him off. He pauses for a moment, “Do you have any more news on that other serial killer?” He knows his name, but he can’t show that he’s actually excited for this case. It’s certainly a change from the normal shit.

Ryan sighs and nods, “He should be going to that small abandoned building that nobody ever actually rented, the one on the more dirty side of the city, later today. I plan for you to kill him while he’s there.”

Michael chews before nodding, swallowing and dusting his hands off. “Yeah, sounds good. I might take a shower and hang out here for an hour or so before going out into the woods and going around to it. Or you could drive me some of the way there, if possible.”

Ryan nods, “That’d work. He’d be there around 10ish in the morning, I believe, but I’m really not sure. He’s difficult to track and- I mean, as predictable as he is in a lot of ways, I’m not magic or some shit. I can’t just tell exactly when and where he’ll be, a lot of it is guess work at a point, so y’know-”

A loud banging at the door startles Ryan and cuts him off, and his eyes widen. He stares at Michael and nods at the hallway, mouthing, “Go.”

Michael darts around the counter and into the hallway, flattening himself against the wall just inside Ryan’s bedroom.

A voice shouts, “Police, open up!”

He winces and tilts his ear towards the doorway to try and hear as Ryan opens up the door and sticks his hands up, stepping back, “I’m sorry, officers, is there a problem?”

“A neighbor reported seeing a man racing through the field near your house towards this way,” The man grits his teeth, his gun pointed at Ryan. “And we have reason to believe it was Michael Jones, the most wanted serial killer.”

The edge of Ryan’s mouth twitches but he stays cool, curving his eyebrow in fake confusion. “How would they even tell when it’s this dark-” He shakes his head, looking up at the cop apologetically. “Sorry, my mind’s a bit dazed, it’s four in the morning and I’ve just been playing video games and drinking.

Ryan pauses and takes a breath in, “Wait, how exactly would my neighbors- Because the ones to the north that can actually see most of the field can’t see all the way over near my house and the house next to mine, and the houses next to mine can’t see the field really well-”

He shakes his head, laughing nervously, “Sorry, I’m a bit buzzed, ignore me.”

The officer narrows his eyes at him but doubt is already showing on his face as he looks behind himself and nods. “You three go ahead, me and Ben will search this house.”

Michael swears under his breath and escapes further into Ryan’s bedroom, his heart pounding. It’s dark and he’s fumbling around trying desperately not to make too much noise as he searches for anyway he can hide or get out and-

His heart stops when he remembers a small door in Ryan’s bathroom with a way out to the back. Nobody ever used it, but he remembers stumbling across it while going to take a shower years ago, before any of this had started, back when he could visit without sneaking in or having police pounding on the doors.

He blinks his thoughts away before feeling his way into the bathroom, a small, dim square of light cast from the tiny window on the door the only light in the room. He slowly turns the doorknob and pushes his way out, closing it quietly behind himself, his heart beating in his ears.

He lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding when the door closes with a click behind him and turns and sprints towards the woods 50 yards behind the house, hoping to God nobody sees him. Blood rushes through his ears and the cold bites at his skin and for a moment he’s disappointed he never got that shower he had wanted. He felt like shit.

Even though he’s running with cops in the house behind him looking for him, the man with a big “Most Wanted” sticker on every picture of him, his mind still wanders to the other man, the other serial killer. Gavin Free, Gavino Not-Free-For-Long.

He giggles to himself as he bursts through into the layer of trees, still running deeper into it to be safe. To say he was looking forward to meeting him was an understatement. Another serial killer, how exciting, in a creepy way. Maybe he can tell him how stupid he is and wipe that dumb little smirk off of his stupid British face and his dumb nose.

He shakes off the thoughts, though they still linger. Gavin’s face was burned in his mind, the face blurred because of the grimy black and white security footage they use to communicate. Despite the shitty quality, his stupid nose always seemed to shine through and show. Odd that nobody has spotted him yet, his nose is about the size of the moon.

Michael growls in frustration as he turns to start going around through the woods towards his destination, where he’ll finally meet the British fuck. Then it’ll all be done, and he won’t have to think about him anymore.

It’s kind of sad to Michael that he’s so obsessed with Gavin. He knows him only from the winks in the camera aimed towards him and the words he can only see through low quality footage. He knows nothing about him other than the fact that he’s also a serial killer and he appears to be a dumb shit, noting by how he acts in the film he does get of him. Is he really so starved of social interaction that the smallest aspect of another human being makes him obsessed?

He tries to shake off the thoughts again, but it doesn’t work. And, deep down, he knew it wouldn’t. And he doesn’t really want to think about why.

All he knows is that it’s going to be a long journey there and all he can think about is Gavin Free.

-    ~  -

By 9 am, he’s gotten out of the woods and into an urban jungle of abandoned buildings and graffiti. It’s quiet and those that are around either don’t recognize him, are too stoned or high to realize it’s him, or have done enough themselves that they certainly couldn’t point it out to anyone. Besides, he wouldn’t blame them for being scared of him.

He sighs, his hoodie pulled over his head as he creeps along the outside of the building Ryan told him to meet Gavin in. As he nears a back entrance with broken windows and dust covering it, he pulls his pistol out of the holster on his hip, flicking the safety off and pulling the slide back. He readies it at his side as he slowly pushes open the door, peering around into the room before venturing in and closing the door behind him. His heart beat in his chest, this is it, this is the moment he had been waiting for.

He walks along the wall, looking around the room for any sign of him before slowly creaking up the stairs, his gun tight at his side. As he emerges into the second and final story, dust thick in the air as light streams through rugged holes in the ceiling, he sees what he had been waiting so very long for and his heart stops.

He raises his gun and wills his voice to be steady. “You’re early.”

Gavin jumps, his eyes wild as he turns around and scrambles for his gun. “Bloody hell, you knew I’d be here?” He exclaims, fumbling with his own pistol.

Michael realizes for a moment that he never actually did hear his voice. He guesses he never really fully thought about the whole British thing. Whoops.

The edge of his lip twitches. Now’s not the time to be thinking about him.

“You’re an idiot,” Michael sighs, pursing his lips. “How are you even still alive?”

Gavin raises his gun to Michael, smirking, “Shoot me and I’ll shoot you. Didn’t think of that, did’ya?”

“Your safety’s on.” Michael deadpans.

Gavin looks down at it and swears to himself, clicking it off and raising it up again as Michael stares at him in disbelief. “You’re seriously a fucking idiot, Jesus Christ.”

“I’m still alive, aren’t I?” Gavin says, rocking on his heels.

“Yeah, and it’s startling that you are. How has nobody caught you? Your idiocy seems dangerous to you and everyone around you,” Michael snarls.

Gavin giggles, “That’s kind of the point, isn’t it?” He pauses, looking to the side. “Er, not to myself, but to other people. And not the dumbness thing, just that I would be dangerous to others in general, y’know?”

“No.”

“Seems like you’re the idiot in this case, then.” Gavin says, slightly smug.

“No, I think it’s still you.” Michael shakes his head in frustration, “Why are we even still talking?”

“We don’t really have a choice in the matter, do we?” Gavin says, “We have our guns pointed at each other but can’t actually shoot or do anything, what are we to do?” He shrugs, “Might as well talk, y’know?”

“Talk until I get fed up of you and your stupid nose and stupid stupidity,” Michael mutters.

Gavin pouts, “Aw, Michael, why you gotta be mean?”

“Gavin, we’re both trying to kill each other, you fucking idiot. And, as you said, we have time to talk, so might as well get out feelings out about each other!” He says cheerfully before continuing, “And I feel that you’re a fucking idiot that I can’t believe is still alive.”

“Well, you’re not any better,” Gavin huffs.

Michael raises his eyebrow, “No, I think I am. I think that’s why I had to tell you that your safety was on. I think that’s why I was the one actually prepared here, the one that found you here, for fuck’s sake. The one that actually knows how to use a fucking gun.”

Gavin opens his mouth to speak before closing it and staying quiet for a few moments before frowning. “Why do you want to kill me then?”

Michael’s arms fall slightly. “I… Don’t know. I don’t know.”

It’s quiet for a moment, just the dull sound of birds chirping and cars driving by somewhere below them. Nobody knows that there are two of the most wanted men in America standing in an abandoned building as they go about their day, nobody knows about this hesitant lull in conversation.

“I don’t either,” Gavin says in a small voice.

It’s silent as Michael looks up at him and they meet eyes, just staring at each other until Gavin breaks away and looks down. He clears his throat before looking back up at him, returned to his usual giddy self, “Can we sit down? My legs hurt and we’ll probably be here a while.”

Michael looks at him in disbelief, ignoring the light pink of his cheeks. “Are you joking me? You’re a fucking idiot.”

“My legs are tired, I see no issue-” He starts, before Michael interrupts him.

“Your legs are tired, we’re in a fucking standoff, you idiot!” He shouts, “We have each other at fucking gunpoint and you’re acting as if we’re just having a goddamn friendly-ass picnic. I was sentenced to kill you, you idiot!”

“We can still point at each other while sitting down, I don’t understand-” Gavin says, furrowing his brow.

Michael sighs in frustration, “You know what? Fine. Let’s goddamn sit while threatening to slice each other’s throats, that’s a FANTASTIC idea that I see NO PROBLEMS WITH WHATSOEVER. You fucking idiot.”

Gavin brightens, “So you’ll do it?”

“You’re a goddamn idiot.” Michael mutters.

Gavin grins, hopping from foot to foot again. “Okay, I’ll sit down first, then you.” He pauses, “We’ll, uh, keep our guns trained on each other, okay?”

Michael watches him impatiently as Gavin looks between the ground and Michael, his gun veering off of Michael and towards the wall instead until Gavin topples to the ground, barely avoiding shooting himself in the hand. He screeches and hops into sitting cross-legged, shoving his gun back up at Michael and smiling. “Your turn.”

Michael rubs his head before slowly lowering himself to his knees, keeping his gun steady on Gavin, even though he really doesn’t consider him a threat at this point. Honestly, it’s more likely he would shoot himself than it is he would shoot Michael.

He twists into a cross-legged position and watches Gavin for a while, his gun still pointed if a bit lazily, until Gavin laughs.

“What the fuck are you laughing about?” Michael scowls, “It was completely fucking quiet.”

“No, sorry, just thought of something,” Gavin says, giggling to himself before shaking his head.

“You’re an idiot.”

“No, no, it was just like- That whole ‘threatening to slice each other’s throats’ thing-” He stumbles over his words as he speaks, “And the whole ‘don’t bring a knife to a gun fight’ thing, so it was literally like you threatening to bring-” He sighs, “Nevermind.”

Michael snickers before switching his gun to one hand and fumbling with the side of his jeans, pulling out a knife and waving it at Gavin. “Does it count if you bring both a gun and a knife to a gun fight?”

Gavin puts his hand over his forehead dramatically, his other hand resting on his knee and lazily pointing at Michael. “O-Oh, Michael, this is going too fast, you just whipped out your knife, gosh.”

Michael smirks, “You like that? You like my knife, Gavvy?”

“Take me to dinner first, you flirt.” Gavin says, his arm dropping to his side as he giggles uncontrollably.

“Yes, let’s have a bit of pizza and a murder after, sound good?”

“Hell yeah!” Gavin leans forward, tilting his head down in a fake attempt to be seductive, “And, if you’re good, maybe we can go to an abandoned house later, spent the night together.”

Michael flutters his eyelashes, “Oh, Gavin-chan.”

Gavin grins, “Better not be naughty, Michael, I’d have to take you back there and punish you.”

Michael leans back and covers his chest with his hand, his cheeks a bright pink. “O-Oh my, Gavin-chan, you lovely man you.”

Gavin bursts into laughter and shakes his head, his face turning a bright red, “What’s even happening?”

Before they know it, they’re doubled over laughing, the sheer stupidity of the situation and tired plaguing their brain leaving them numb and giddy as they try desperately to catch their breath.

When they finally do so, they’re leaning against the wall next to each other with their guns held in one hand and lazily pointing at each, leaning against their legs. They both know that this really wouldn’t help them actually cause significant damage to each other, but they both would rather ignore the situation at hand.

If Michael’s honest, he really doesn’t want to shoot Gavin. And, deep down, he’s not sure he ever did.

“What was your first kill?” Gavin asks, breaking the quiet and looking over at Michael.

Michael’s shoulders fall and he looks down. “A woman. She was walking back through a forest from visiting her mother and I stabbed her and buried the knife. Left her there. Nobody noticed her for a day or so.”

He doesn’t completely know why he’s telling Gavin all of this. He tells himself that Gavin wouldn’t live to tell anyway so it doesn’t matter, but he’s not sure he believes that. Maybe he just wants somebody to tell, anybody. Maybe something else.

“I did one or two more kills before I was forced to go into hiding, couldn’t stay living my life anymore.”

Gavin watches him, but Michael refuses to meet his eyes. “Why did you do it?” Gavin asks, softer this time.

Michael doesn’t answer. Gavin puts his hand on his shoulder, “You can tell me.” He laughs bitterly, “I won’t be alive by the end of it, anyway.”

Michael hesitates before sighing. “I didn’t really have a choice,” He says quietly, “My friend made me and I don’t know how.”

Gavin doesn’t say anything, waiting for Michael to elaborate.

“I guess he scares me. He really does. He just walked in one day, all excited, and shouted ‘Michael, I’ve planned an entire murder!’” Michael breathes, “And then I found myself standing over a dead body and I knew it was too late, I couldn’t go back. I’m 90% sure that if I were to stop now, I would wake up dead.

“Not that there’s any way I could stop. Even if I could stop, all my friends hate me because Ryan would spell it to seem like _I’m_ the one who’s crazy, and blame it all on me. I’m only doing it for that fuck, and I never wanted to and I just miss my friends and video games and bars and I can’t even go back to any of that. I have to stay in hiding for the rest of my goddamn life because of that stupid man and I just hate it, I hate my life now. But I can’t go back to my regular life and I just- I don’t want to die but I hate this and everything sucks.”

He takes a deep breath, wincing. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to- Sorry, Jesus.”

Gavin’s quiet for moment, staring at the wall across from them. “I don’t want to either.”

Michael looks over at him.

“I was walking home from work one day and I turned down an alley and suddenly there was a cloth held over my mouth and nose and I woke up in a dark room with a gun pressed to my head. In front of me was a screen showing my friends, live on camera, being tracked.

“’Gavin Free, if you don’t want to your friends over here to get hurt, you’re going to follow my commands from here on out,’ he said, leaning over me and pushing my chin up with a grin. ‘If you don’t, you’ll find your little friends with a bullet through their heads.’” He’s visibly shaking as he speaks, staring ahead as he tries not to express any emotion.

“And from then on I found myself following his rule, sending me person after person to kill.” He looks over at Michael and his face twists, his voice becoming hysteric, “I don’t want to kill, Michael, I really don’t. I hate this, I hate this so much but I just can’t let them get hurt. I don’t want to kill you, I don’t want you to die and I just want to escape but I can’t, I can’t and that sucks so much. I don’t know what to do, I really don’t.”

And before he knows it, Michael had let go of his gun and was hugging Gavin tightly, Gavin’s hands balled into the back on his hoodie as he shakes with mumbled words and held back emotions. And Michael vows that he will do whatever it takes to make sure Gavin ends up alive and with all his friends alive as well, no matter what it takes.

Gavin leans away, his eyes red. “I’m sorry,” he says, trying to apologize but Michael was already on his feet, grabbing his gun and clicking the safety on before stuffing it in its holster. “What are you doing?”

Michael raises his eyebrow, “I’m going to my friend Ryan’s and I’m going to get you out of this shit. Now, you coming or not?”

And with that they were off, leaping through the corpses of buildings into the woods and to Ryan’s house, all thoughts of killing each other forgotten.

-    ~  -

“Michael? What the fuck are you doing here?” Ryan asks in confusion before Gavin peeps up from behind him and Ryan’s eyes widen. He scrambles for a gun and points it at Gavin, who squeals and puts his hands up, backing away.

“Relax and let us in before somebody sees the two most wanted fuckers in America at your back door,” Michael scowls, pushing past Ryan and into the kitchen, opening the fridge and peering around.

Ryan hesitantly puts the pistol down, eyeing Gavin suspiciously. “What the hell is he doing here?”

Gavin looks nervously at Michael who just pulls out the pizza box and glares up at Ryan. “Why did you want to kill him?”

Ryan frowns, looking at Michael weirdly, “I suppose I thought it would be a challenge and a bit of fun, why?”

“Scrap those plans.”

Ryan blinks.

“I have a challenge for you though: find and kill a man we barely know anything about within a time limit, sound fun?” Michael says cheerfully, grabbing a slice of cold pizza and taking a bite.

Ryan crosses his arms but his eyes show that he’s interested. “What are you talking about?”

Michael nods back at Gavin, who’s standing behind Michael like a deer in headlights. “Mr. Gavino Free here kills because some guy threatens to murder all of his friends if he doesn’t do what he says and I plan to stop that. No idea how to though, and that’s where you come in, my good sir.”

He raises his pizza with a smirk, “You were looking for a challenge? Something to stir things up? How about this, instead of just killing random fucks? Y’know, kill the shits in the world.” He bites his lip before adding, “Please?”

Ryan looks at Michael for a moment before slowly turning to Gavin, “What do you know about this guy?”

“He lives in Dallas, has dark brown hair and is kinda tan. Has really yellow teeth and smokes and drinks.” He swallows, “He also has a dark room with a television tracking 5 of my friends. And is a piece of shit.”

Ryan raises his eyebrow, “Thanks for that last bit, it’ll be helpful.”

“So, you’re taking it?” Michael asks, looking up at him.

Ryan grins, “Hell yeah, this sounds fun as dicks.”

“You’re a lunatic,” Michael says, shaking his head as Gavin starts giggling, giddy. “What, Gavin?”

“’Fun as dicks,’” He whispers, grinning, “Not as fun as your dick, Michael.”

“Oh, don’t get this started again,” Michael says, laughing, “We’re supposed to be organizing a murder not making stupid sexual remarks. Don’t make me take out the knife again.”

“Oh Michael, I want your knife so badly,” Gavin giggles, fanning himself, “Gosh, Michael, you flirt, oh my gosh.”

“I feel like I’m missing something here,” Ryan remarks, looking between the two of them with a cocked eyebrow and smirk.

Michael shakes his head, “Let’s just goddamn have some food and play some video games, we’re not going to be able to get anything done today, are we?”

“Not with that attitude, we aren’t,” Ryan mutters, and Michael grins.

“So, Operation Save Gavin is a go then?” Michael says, looking around.

“Hell yeah,” Ryan shines a crooked smile and Gavin nods enthusiastically.

Michael smiles, “Operation Save Gavin it is then. Now let’s just play some goddamn video games and pretend our lives aren’t shit for a little while, right boys?”

And with that, they gave one more grin before fist bumping and immediately regretting it. And Operation Save Gavin began.

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote the ending of this at 1 in the morning, so I apologize for its stupidity and open ending-ness. I really didn't feel like writing all of that, and, if I were to, I'd make a sequel or something. I probably won't unless people want it for some reason though. 
> 
> Things I wanted to have but couldn't fit in: Michael and Gavin walking in on Ryan holding a woman by the neck with a knife, 90% more violence, and more romantic shit. But alas, time ran out.


End file.
